


Short Steve Ship Stories

by BookofOdym



Category: Marvel (Comics), Marvel 616, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: First Dates, Fluff, M/M, Secret Santa
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-19
Updated: 2019-12-19
Packaged: 2021-02-25 22:07:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21862687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BookofOdym/pseuds/BookofOdym
Summary: A collection of romantic stories involving Steve Rogers and various Marvel characters (and maybe characters from outside media)
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes & Steve Rogers, Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Comments: 1
Kudos: 5





	Short Steve Ship Stories

"Okay guys, settle down," Bruce's voice rang throughout the room. Every ongoing conversation paused as people decided that they really didn't want to face his wrath on that particular day, "the sooner we can get this Secret Santa stuff over and done with, the sooner we can go back to business as usual."

Maybe it was a bad idea to do this every year, it was always chaos. Around this time in December, their weekly meeting was taken over by planning for this event, and it seemed that every year there needed to be more and more rules. Steve allowed his eyes to slide over towards Tony, who sat across the table from him, when the engineer rolled his eyes, he couldn't hold back a smile.

"Nothing above 30 dollars in value, yeah, we all know some people in this room are millionaires, but buying someone a new car is right out," Bruce read out the rules as calmly as possible. Still, even he couldn't hold back a sigh when they started focusing on one person in particular. "Henry," he said, pinching the bridge of his nose, "please for the love of God, no robots this year. If you want to get someone a Roomba, buy it in the store. Do not, under any circumstances, make it. No programming video games, and definitely no biochemical experiments. Baking a gift is fine, but please consult the list of acceptable presents before you leave today."

Steve would typically say that it was cruel to address Hank publicly like that, at least he would have before they'd had to spend at least five Christmases trying to stop whatever he'd decided was an appropriate gift rampaging throughout the city. Homemade gifts were cute, as long as they didn't come with a sentient AI.

He seemed to be learning, though, and last year he'd just given Clint some cookies.

"Also people, can we try to keep the gifts workplace appropriate, we're not saying you can't buy your friend a dildo separate from this event, but please remember that we're all going to be in a room with Captain America, and he will be disappointed in you."

A lot of sheepish glances turned towards Steve, and he sighed. "Listen to the man on this, I don't want to see that."

Bruce chuckled. "Okay, everyone, put your names in the hat, then we can move on to the meeting.

* * *

Tony.

Steve looked up from the scrap of paper, then down again, hoping against hope that the name on it would change, but no, it still said Tony.

What the Hell was he supposed to get for someone who could buy whatever he wanted? He wasn't even really sure what Tony enjoyed, aside from working on machines, and Steve could not just get the man some scrap metal.

What could he do? Steve's eyes slid over to his sketchpad, but he shook his head, Tony Stark was not into art, not even if it was drawn by someone who he considered a friend.

So that left asking the others, hoping that one of them would have a better idea than he did.

Hank and Clint were in the Kitchen, they seemed to be locked in comfortable silence. Clint was hunched over the table, a bottle of beer in hand, while Hank stood by the stove, cooking something. Steve pretended not to notice that Hank was wearing the old 'kiss the overlord' apron from Ultron's last 'plan.' "Just the men I was looking for," Steve slid into one of the chairs, "I need your help. I got Tony as a Secret Santa."

Clint choked on his beer. "Fucking Christ."

"I would probably word it differently," Steve chastised, "but yes, those are essentially my feelings on the matter."

"I thought I had it bad getting McCoy, like, you know he'll start the intellectual bullshit no matter what, but especially if you get him something he's already read. Huh." He turned towards Hank, looking like he was formulating a plan. "Who'd you get, Pym?"

Henry's hands seemed to tighten on the wooden spoon, and the nervousness was evident on his face when he turned to face them. "Luke Cage."

Steve tried to smile consolingly at that, really, Hank couldn't have gotten someone more his opposite if he had tried, but Clint had no such compassion, and broke out into peals of laughter.

"I was gonna suggest we swap, but y'know, I think I wanna see that."

Hank's smile was strained. "Steve did come here to ask for help, maybe we could focus on his problem."

"What could Stark possibly want that he doesn't own already? Come on, Pym, you're not stupid. The only thing Steve could maybe try is getting Beyoncé's phone number."

Steve sighed. "I'm not going to bother the poor woman, plus, I think Stark already struck out with her."

"I think it comes down to one of two things," Hank said, coming over to sit with them, "either you go for an experience, take him somewhere he wouldn't normally go, or..."

"Or?" Steve pressed.

"Reed and I were working on a project together, I won't bore you with the details, but, long story short, if it goes the way I'm thinking, it could improve the energy efficiency of the Iron Man suit threefold," Steve didn't like where this was going, anything Hank said that started with 'Reed and I' always had a catch, "the only issue is," and there it was, "Reed kicked me off the project, something about him keeping an eye on my mental health, which is stupid because I'm keeping an eye on my mental health too, and it's fine."

Steve nodded along, not even bothering to interject, it was like watching a train derail. You knew what was coming, you knew you had to do everything in your power to stop it, but you couldn't look away.

"Long story short, I have an idea, but we're going to have to break into the Baxter Building for it. Again."

"Wait, again?" Steve shook his head, he wasn't touching that if he could help it. "Henry, did you forget to take your meds today?"

* * *

Steve had hoped that asking another scientist would have been able to shed some light on the situation and was somewhat disappointed by how unhelpful that conversation had been. But he'd also had an appointment to spar with Natasha, and he was sure that she could manage to be at least slightly more helpful.

"Do you know if he's still planning the heist?" She asked, aiming a high kick towards Steve's head. Steve had made the mistake of passing on all of Hank's ideas, mostly to vent his frustration, without realizing that a super-spy might be attracted to the concept of conducting a stealth operation.

"What?" Steve replied, mostly out of shock, he barely managed to avoid the kick, "No, the Fantastic Four are our allies, even if Reed has a tendency to get abrasive. I sincerely hope he's dropped the idea."

"Shame," she commented, attacking with a few quick jabs, which he easily dodged. "But, your issue is Tony?"

"Yeah, he's pretty much impossible to buy a gift for."

Natasha shrugged. "So don't."

"Fairly certain that that's the point of this whole exercise, doing something for Tony."

"That doesn't mean you need to get him a material gift," she didn't roll her eyes, but the tone of her voice meant that she wanted to, "just take him out, do something nice, have fun."

* * *

Except Steve thought that maybe even that had been a mistake, he'd taken Tony out that evening, and Tony had been... quiet the entire time. He was twitchy, and a few times Steve had sworn he'd spotted no small amount of pink flashing across his cheeks. It was strange, to say the least, and Steve was very disconcerted.

He hadn't talked once throughout their walk through the botanical gardens, which Steve probably should have expected, really, because Tony wasn't a biologist, much less a botanist, there was no way he would be interested in plants. Steve had just wanted to get them away from the hustle and bustle and killer robots of their daily lives, maybe then Tony would be able to relax, and he had pulled out his sketchbook as he talked about nothing. The scenery would be great for a watercolor, he thought. Tony watched him draw, biting down on his lower lip, he looked like he wanted to say something.

"Steve, what is this?" Tony asked after several more minutes.

"Hm?" He looked up. "I just thought we hadn't done anything together for a while."

Tony hadn't looked convinced, though, so Steve had dragged him somewhere else.

It was only later, when Steve had taken Tony to get deep-fried oysters, that the other man finally voiced what he was thinking. He'd already polished off his portion and had leaned forward to nab one of Steve's with his wooden fork. Steve made every attempt to block him, but in the end, he just wanted it less than Tony did, and the engineer pulled away victorious.

He chewed a few times, looking smug, before asking: "So, is this a date?"

Steve choked on his soda. He had no idea how to respond to that.

Luckily, Tony continued, utterly oblivious to his response. "Not that I'd mind that or anything, actually, that'd be pretty great. Just, I'd probably have enjoyed a little more warning, if that was possible."

He was biting down on his lip again when Steve looked back up, and it suddenly occurred to Steve that his friend was kind of cute. Maybe incredibly cute, and there was no reason why this couldn't be a date.

Except... now he needed to find a new gift.

**Author's Note:**

> Hank in this chapter is based on the 616 comics version, so he's younger and a member of the team, but... there is precisely 0 ship fic with MCU Hank and anyone, which honestly makes me want to do something involving that. So maybe... I will delve into that idea later.  
> Suggestions for ships are always welcome >)<


End file.
